


The Art of Death

by FallofDarkness



Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Artist Neal Caffrey, Asexual Character, Bisexual Neal Caffrey, F/M, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21606403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallofDarkness/pseuds/FallofDarkness
Summary: What starts as an act of self preservation quickly turns into a search for revenge and artistic inspiration.Serial killer AU in which Neal is an artist and Moz is a writer, but they also kill people.
Relationships: Elizabeth Burke & Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey & Mozzie, Elizabeth Burke/Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey/Mozzie
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is a fic I started a few months ago, then decided was probably terrible and forgot about.
> 
> I still think its probably not the best and the introduction and flashback bits are pretty clunky, but I decided it's time actually put something I've written out in the world for once.
> 
> Also there's not enough fic for the Neal/Moz pairing so for the few of you who love these two as much as me, hope this is an okay start.

Considering the people they are and the direction their relationship takes over the following years, the strangest thing about Neal's first encounter with Mozzie is how normal it is.

  
They meet at an art exhibit for a couple of Neal's old college friends, and despite the other mans clear intention to remain unnoticed, or maybe because of it, the artists attention is drawn to him almost instantly.

  
Up until this point in his life Neal's romantic and sexual partners have tended to fit into one of two categories, either pretty and naive, like his first girlfriend Kate, or confidently dominant with a shade of controlling, like Vincent, who he dated on and off throughout his first year at college. The short, balding, obviously awkward man who has spent much of the time Neal's been observing him looking at the various paintings in a way that suggests he can use them to divine the nature of the universe, clearly doesn't fit into either group.

  
That doesn't matter. Neal finds himself attracted to the other man in way that's unlike anything else he's felt previously. When he finally manages to strike up a conversation with him over their mutual disdain for the cheap wine on offer, and gets his first glimpse into Mozzie's unique mind that feeling only gets stronger.

  
They end up talking for over three hours and by the time the exhibit closes that evening Mozzie has earned his own category in Neal's mind, along with his number. Neal has a name, that probably isn’t real, but that’s okay, he's always preferred the mystery. 

* * *

  
  
They've been together for almost five months when it happens. It's late, they're both drunk and by the time Neal realises he recognises the driver it's too late. He's unconscious a moment later.

  
"Hello, Neal"

  
Neal doesn't need to open his eyes to know who that voice belongs to, doesn't need to smell that distinctive scent know exactly where he is or feel the tightness of the cuffs around his wrists to remember everything that's happened here before, to know precisely what's coming now.

  
He forces himself to look anyway, to take in the small, dark room, nearly empty apart from the bed he's currently chained seated on, and the man stood in front of him, looking almost no different than the last time they saw each other.

  
"Hello Mathew," Neal replies, trying to keep his voice calm and detached.

  
It's harder to stay impassive when the the thought that's been niggling at the back of his mind suddenly decides to hit him with full force. Moz. The last time he saw the other man was just before he lost consciousness, and as much as he tries to tell himself that his boyfriend might have escaped, or been allowed to get away, he knows that's not what has happened. He knows this man too well for that.  
  
_Neal was nineteen when he met Mathew Keller. It had started as a bit of fun, a way for both of them to get over other relationships that hadn't worked out. They enjoyed spending time together, he and Mathew had a lot in common on the surface, and a few months in things started to become more serious._

  
_For a while things were good, but then the problems began. By this point Neal, hopeless romantic that he's always been, was already completely in love with the other man, so of course he ignored the signs, until he couldn't anymore._

  
_It started with a few choice comments, references about Neal being too flirtatious, complaints that he wasn't doing enough to dissuade people from trying to flirt with him. The comments turned to harassment, directed at Neal's friends or anyone who showed 'too much interest' in him._

  
_He should have ended things when Mathew had punched a man for looking at him, but he blamed himself. Neal had told himself that the other man was right. If he didn't flirt so so much, if he wasn't so obsessed with getting other people's attention, then Mathew wouldn't have reason to be jealous. It was his fault people were getting hurt, just like it had been with his father._

  
_Neal had pleaded with his lover to stop taking his anger at him out on other people. Mathew had agreed as long as Neal accepted the punishments himself and so the room had been created, in the basement of Keller's home._

  
_The forms of 'punishment' would vary depending on how Mathew was feeling. If he was angry it would be the beatings, if he was in a jealous mood it was usually something sexual. The cutting didn't really need a reason, it was just something he liked doing. It didn't take long for Neal to recognise the patterns, although knowing what was coming didn't make it any easier to deal with._

  
_They'd stayed together another year after that, until he learned that a college friend had been sent to hospital because Mathew had guessed that they'd slept together a few times before their relationship had started. Mathew hadn't reacted at all when he told him things were done, just left with a word. Neal thought he was gone completely from his life._

  
_Neal dated a few people after that, but it was only when he met Moz that he allowed himself to fall in love again, let himself think that everything would be okay._

  
_He should have known better_.  
  
Mathew was willing to nearly kill a man over a couple nights of meaningless sex before they were even together. Neal chest clenches at the very thought of what he might do to Mozzie, a man he's been in a committed relationship with for the past few months.

  
Mathew smiles at him in a way that suggests he knows exactly what Neal's been thinking about. He walks around the end of the bed, coming to sit next Neal and wrapping his arms around the artists shoulder in way that would almost be pleasant if not for the cuffs keeping him in place and the dangerous look in his ex-lover's eyes.

  
"Your new boyfriend's pretty interesting," Keller smirks, enjoyment evident on his face, "Bit of a downgrade in the looks department, but..."

  
"Stay away from Moz," Neal growls, hoping the threat in his voice is enough to disguise the building panic.

  
"It's a bit late for that," another smirk, completely unfazed, "I've been having a bit of fun with him while you were sleeping. Don't worry though, you haven't missed much, I saved the best bits so you could enjoy it too."

  
The fear ratchets up a notch, but now it's combined with a growing anger.

  
"Leave him alone, it's not.."

  
"Him I want to hurt it's you. That's true, but see I know you. This," he says gesturing to the room, "is just a reminder. It doesn't matter what I do to you, not now, but I could destroy that weird little boyfriend of yours so easily and that, that would destroy you."

  
With that Mathew slides of the bed, retrieves a key from his pocket and proceeds to unlock the cuffs chaining Neal. 

  
As soon as the last lock is free Neal throws himself forward, pushing Mathew back and runs for the door. The effects of whatever he's been given to knock him out still haven't warn off completely and he stumbles, which allows the other man to grab him. 

  
"The more you struggle now, the worse it will be for him" the soft voice he uses forces a stab of rage through him, but Neal makes himself calm down, allowing Keller to lead him through the house to where he's keeping Moz.

  
This room is slightly larger, much brighter and not as sparsely decorated as the one Neal's just left. As well a decently sized bed there are a couple of drawers, a bedside table with a lamp and a small chair in the corner. Mozzie is sat on the floor, arms chained to the bed leg. His eyes are blank and unfocused and it takes a moment for him to show any awareness of their presence. It's only when Neal crouches down and puts a hand on his shoulder that he turns to look at him.

  
"Neal," he whispers, glancing at him with a mixture of panic, uncertainty an a sliver of relief, "Are you really there?" 

  
"I'm here Moz, it's okay," Neal moves to wrap his arms around the smaller man but Mathew pulls him away, letting go only when he stops struggling.

  
"What did you do to him?" he demands, turning to face Keller, fury rapidly taking over the fear and concern that have been gripping him since he's been in this building. 

  
The other man ignores him, leaning down to whisper something to Moz that causes him to flinch with fear. Neal can't hear what Keller says but the look Moz gives him is enough to know that it probably involves threats towards himself if his partner doesn't accept whatever is planned for him. 'Don't listen to him' Neal mouths, silently, although Mathew clearly notices the action.  
"What I've done isn't really important right now," He says standing up,"You should be more focused on what I'm going to do."

  
Mathew nods towards the bed and Neal feels his stomach tighten as sees the arrangement of items lying out in front of him. When he notices the knife he freezes, memories shooting into his head, the feel of metal against flesh as as Keller slides the blade down his chest, the tight grip on his arm as he's forced onto the bed, the coldness on his wrists and ankles as cuffs are snapped around them holding him down. He remembers the look on Keller's face, the mixture of fury and exhilaration as he readied himself for whatever as about to come.

  
He's wearing that same look now, only this time Neal is not going to let it go any further. Grabbing the lamp from the table next to him he swings it, knocking Mathew to the ground. He doesn't get up.

  
The small part of his mind that is still thinking rationally screams at him to run, to grab Moz and get out of there, but he doesn't. He does grab the keys from Keller's pocket and free Moz, but instead of making their escape Neal just pulls him close and they hold onto each other for a while, Neal's anger at Mathew further heightened by the way his partner is still shaking in his arms, gripping tightly to him as if he's still not sure Neal is really there. He glares at Keller's unconscious body, thinking of all the people Neal has cared about that this man has been responsible for hurting, for keeping him away from, about the way he always made Neal feel that he was the one responsible, the one to blame for everything he did. Neal knows now that he isn't, that he never was. But he will be responsible for making sure it doesn't happen again. He will make sure that this is the last time anyone uses the people he loves against him. 

  
The knife is still on the bed, the cuffs on the floor next to his body. Moz is no longer shaking and has calmed down enough to recognise that Neal is formulating a plan. His eyes still show a high level of fear, but now they also contain a manic glint, one that he knows is reflected in his own eyes.

  
They leave the man cuffed to the bed in the basement room, throat slit. Neal cleans up and on Moz's request they douse the place with oil from the garage and torch it. Neal isn't sure what's more beautiful, the flames destroying the man, and house responsible for so much of the pain and guilt he's felt over these last few years, or the child like joy and excitement on his boyfriends face as they take one more glance at the burning building before heading into the night unseen.

  
Neal spends the rest of the night painting. The resulting piece is dark and abstract, but the symbolism is obvious. It's a sign of freedom, escape, retribution, and beginnings. It's the first of many. It will be a long time till anyone else sees it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few character notes:
> 
> Neal is 24 in this fic. Peter is early 30's as is Mozzie. I lessened the age gaps a bit, mostly because I liked the idea of an earlier in his career Peter who is already friends with Neal + Moz but has to decide between his suspicions and duties as a newer agent and trusting his friends type thing, but still wanted Neal not too much younger than his canon age.
> 
> Anyway hope it's not too bad, and feel free to kudos, leave comments, all that stuff.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality begins to sink in for the pair, but news from an FBI friend may provide them with some relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I forgot to mention last time, I would just like to preemptively apologise for any Britishisms that will probably end up slipping through, or just mistakes in general, nothing is beta read.
> 
> Sorry for the wait.

_It's dark, cold. Neal's running but he's not sure why. There's something familiar here, in the damp air around him, in the silence pervading every corner of the street and his mind. He spots a figure ahead, illuminated by the light from an open door. As Neal gets closer he sees the figure clearly, recognition forcing the disparate thoughts in his mind into one clear memory._

_That's when he hears the sirens._

Neal wakes sharply, dream forgotten as the events of the previous night return to him with full force. A growing sliver of fear begins clawing at his mind as the reality of what he's done sinks in, but glancing over at Moz, lying asleep next to him, alive, safe, and currently at least, as relaxed as he's ever seen the other man capable of being, Neal can't bring himself to regret any of it. 

That doesn't stop the fear though. Images, flashes of memories and nightmares swings through his brain. The visits to see his dad, the emptiness behind his eyes, the moments of anger. The stories thrown out in rage, of attacks and abuses meant to highlight how all of his fathers suffering had been his fault. Their home as it's own prison, the guards being fear and guilt. 

He's not going back to that.

If it comes to it he's willing to run. He can disappear, change his name, start a new life somewhere else. It won't be the first time that he's become a different person out of necessity, that he's left the people he cares about behind to protect himself. He doesn't know where he'll go, or who he'll become, but he does know one thing. This time he won't be alone.

Mozzie stirs beside him, eyes shooting open when Neal gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. His arms swing out in a defensive manner, before he turns to give Neal a sleepy glare. The reaction is much less violent than it had been when the relationship had first started and Neal cant help but smile a bit at the reminder of how comfortable his boyfriend is around him compared to anyone else.

"Do we need to leave?" 

The calmness in Moz's voice surprises Neal for a second, and he's struck, not for the first time, with the realisation of just how little he knows about the other man's past beyond the inability to trust, the obsession with anonymity and the deep seated paranoia its left him with.

"I dont know know," Neal admits, "I dont want to but..." 

It's only as he say it that Neal realises how much he means that. He doesn't want to leave his friendships, his home, his art, his own identity, but he cant go to prison, and he cant let Moz go to prison either. He can't watch the most important person in his life be destroyed like his father was. 

"If it comes to it I'm ready" 

"I know"

In the light of morning Neal can see scratches and bruising beggining to form across his boyfriends arm and chest, and he feels a punch of guilt that his past is the reason for that. He can't help but feel like he should have known this would happen, that Keller wasn't just going to let him go, allow him to move on with no repercussions. 

"I've been though worse", Moz says, clearly sensing where his thoughts are headed, "and this isn't your fault, none of it, it was all him. We did what we had to, I'm okay"

Those last two words don't match the look of clear concern directed at Neal and the tension stiffening his whole body, and despite everything else Neal feels a warm glow in his chest at the rage filled protective glint in Moz's eyes as he notices the bruise marks on his wrists. Neal is used to anger from the people he's loved, but it's usually been directed at him rather than on his behalf. 

"I need a drink"

The shift in tone startles a laugh out of Neal, and look he gets from Moz only adds to the twisted amusment. Rolling his eyes in a way that he knows will irritate his boyfriend, Neal slips out of bed and heads over to the wine rack. Unlike Moz, Neal doesn't normally start drinking this early, but right now he just needs something to dull the fear and guilt still knawing at the back of his head. 

They're through half of the morning, and most of a bottle, when the vibration of Neals phone drags him once again back to reality. The small amount of distraction being drunk had allowed him disappears instanly, especially when his eyes focus enough to see who's calling. 

"It's Peter." Neal whispers to Moz as he swipes to answer. 

The Panic he's feeling is reflected on Moz's face, but he ignores the gestures not to answer, and puts on this most casual tone. After all Peter is calling on his private phone and so he might just be inviting them over for dinner. On the other hand his only FBI friend calling him the morning after he killed his ex-boyfriend and set his house on fire is seems like a pretty steep coincidence.

"Hello Peter", Neal starts, putting on his most casual voice. It sounds pretty good to his own ears. 

"Hey Neal, sorry to bother you, and I know this may seem like a weird question, but did you or Mozzie notice a fire last night when you were out, or anything else odd."

The tension in Neal's chest somehow manages to tighten and release at exactly the same time. He's sure they must be talking about his own adnventures, and that worries him a bit, and the FBI involvement means theres probably not going to be an easy accident get out, but if Peter is checking in informally like this, then, at least right now, neith he or Moz are being linked to anything, which means they have at least some time to cover their tracks and preperations if things change.

"Neal?"

Forced calm again,

"Yeah, sorry I was just trying to remember. I don't think we saw anything, sorry. We had a bit to drink."

"Don't worry about it, we have some pretty solid leads, I just thought I'd check since Elizabeth wanted me to call you anyway to see if you and Mozzie wanted to come over this evening."

The tightness relaxes a little more. 

"I'll check with Moz, but I would like to certainly."

Neal is surpised by how easily Moz agrees to going over, but pleased that he seems to have picked up Neal's 'act as if everything's normal until it's over or we can't anymore' plan, and is clearly willing to go along with it, even if he can tell that he isn't as reassured as Neal is by his converstation with Peter. Not that he'd expected him to be, Moz likes Peter, and is vey fond of his wife Elizabeth, but he doesn't have any level of trust in the FBI, even when he hasn't been party to another persons death. 

By the time they get back to Neal's apartment that night, the tenison has almost gone. Especially thanks to Peter informing them that they already have a 'confession' from members of a drug operation that Matthew'd had connections with in the past. 

When a few days later, the arrest becomes official news, even Moz relaxes a bit. But Neal can't quite ignore the niggling vioce in the back of his mind that keeps telling him how much he enjoyed the feeling of vengence, the destuction of the person who had tried to destroy him. He ignores it, drowns it out with the reminder that he was defending hiself, defending Moz. He knows it's not the entire truth, but Neal has always been good at lying to himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry this took so long and is pretty short, and not as interesting. I needed to get this chapter done to establish things a bit, It should get more intersting from here as we dig more into both of their pasts, which will be darker than canon since that the tone im trying to go for, certainly going forward.
> 
> June will also probably make her appearance in the next chapter.
> 
> Anyway hope the was still okay, and please kudos and comment etc if you want, feedback on whats good or what could be improved would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm having a hard time knowing where to go with this, since i decided my initial ideas weren't all that good so Im leaving this story for now. I still intend on writing more stuff for this pairing and have a few ideas in the works. I may come back to this if I can find a way to make it work.


End file.
